Self-pity cannot be allowed to become my strong suit...a tug-of-war with indifference...

Today, a whole roster of names were blared out, almost ostentatiously, over the loudspeaker, about colleagues who had been 'promoted'. Having already been in my civil service job for close to five years, I could not prevent disquiet from creeping into my soul as the inevitable occurred - I was left out in the raining, foggy cold - yet another time, as newbies with barely a year's history in the same institution overtook me.

And yes, a senior colleague, who was one of the mostly gloriously elevated folk, visibly pulled her chair away,albeit a little, when I approached her to discuss a resource I had to share.


It was mainly my own culpabiliy, when I first joined the service years ago, to hit back at some people who were nominally my superiors, through letters to
their superiors, complaining about unfair attempts to displace me from the institution and other, shall we say, irregularities that I felt, victimised me.


Unluckily(and stupidly, I may add), I made my intentions to leave clear to people who used this information as a step for self-promotion, which, in the end(and to cut a long story short) backfired on them.

I survived longer than my enemies, some who opted out because they couldn't take the heat, some who were backstabbed by the head of the organisation.

But at what cost?

Here I am, shouldering at least 20% more work in core areas, and no one gives a damn.
True, I have created an unjustified impression that I am a stuck-up person, when all I am is painfully shy.

Here I am, feeling the dull tingling that could pass off as pain, all alone. A couple of people actually walked past me and gloated,as though this small-step-in-a thousand promotion would actually set them up for life.

Landing on my behind in the cold puddle actually does me a favour, in a bizarre way: it strengthens my resolve to leave this job, following the path of numerous others before me, people who have had their desire to help young people thrown in their faces in the form of a flawed, personality-dominated system that dons the visage of a strictly performance-based environment.

But, just like the time I was almost forced out of the organisation against my will, I will leave on my OWN TERMS, when I have received sufficient recompense for the psychological and emotional toll this job has taken on me.

Of course, no dollar amount will truly suffice to replace a shattered ideal, a trampled endeavour.


No, I have no arms to bury my head in to cry, but I have survived early attempts on my life and my happiness, and the sweetest revenge would be to demostrate that I am happy regardless.